


Falling Into You

by jungle_ride



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Forbidden Love, Romance, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 09:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8661517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jungle_ride/pseuds/jungle_ride
Summary: AU The era of The Found begun over three thousand years ago when magic and dragons reawakened. Civilisation spilt into three Guilds; Magicks, Dragon Lords and Hominid. The relation laws forbids a Hominid from being with a Dragon Lord, which might be a problem for Hunith who finds herself falling for Balinor, the prodigy son of the Dragon Lord Guild.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eurydice72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurydice72/gifts).



> I knew I wanted to do Hunith/Balinor as soon as I saw it listed as a pairing, because they really don’t get enough love and I also thought it would be fun to do something different. The fic itself was inspired by your prompt of forbidden love and the tags tattoos, alternative universes, dystopias and urban fantasy. Now I’m not sure if this quite qualifies as a dystopia or an ubran fantasy and is more idk just a hybrid of what my imagination came up when I saw them listed. However I really hope you enjoy this piece. I had such fun doing this it, honestly I haven’t been this inspired to write in a long time so thanks for giving me something that I was able to get so inspired by. Enjoy.

“There have been three cycles of mankind; as we know it. Can anyone tell me what the first is?” The professor pauses, taking in the room of students; some were scrawling notes onto paper, others were listening intently, several were looking out into the distance their attention already lost.

Hunith, from her seat in the back, bitterly stops her own hand from rising. Despite the fact she knows the answer, life has taught her that the knowledge of a member of the Hominid Guild and a simple farm girl from the outlands, was not wanted, nor should it be flaunted; unless of course she wanted to be ridiculed.

“The Forgotten era.” Samuel, the son of a general, answers gaining a smile from the professor. Hunith feels resentment towards them both, frustrated in the knowledge that had she answered she would have received a scowl at best.

The professor, a lean, beady eyed man, was just as appalled at her presence as the majority of the student body. It was an insult to the great halls of knowledge, he had once told her in front of a room full of students, making her stomach plummet and face redden from sheer humiliation. In retrospect Hunith wonders why she ever applied for university, and constantly speculates on why they’d accepted.

In the end she had concluded that the Magick Guild were trying to improve their relationship with the lower ranks of Hominid; seeking to appease them by allowing them more opportunities, although in reality they offered nothing. A farmer’s daughter may now attend schools previously restricted to select individuals, but she was still expected to remain in her place. Despite any dreams Hunith may have had; inevitably she would never be able to rise from her position in society, transfer perhaps. She could become a maid, a cook, perhaps even an florist, though even that seemed a stretch too far.

“Yes Samuel that is correct.” The professor continues. “The Forgotten era was when this world began. During this time magic blossomed in its natural and rightful manner, dragons and other such creatures roamed its lands. However there is little evidence of that world, most of its history is based upon what the second era, The Lost era, called myths and legends. They believed it to be pure fantasy. ”

Hunith had read such myths, studying them at her volition. Here at the university she had checked out every book on the subject from the library, the ones she was allowed to anyway. The others she had stolen glances at, reading them in the shadows, hidden behind shelves, or tucking them into sleeves of other books concealing their identity.

“Although Magick’s are able to access the magic of the universe and give us glimpses of this time; even with their powers they cannot stretched across the wide berth of thousands upon thousands of years. All they can offer is a reflection in a lake, shimming and unclear. As it is, it is not known how or why this forgotten civilisation collapsed, all we know is that magic faded and the dragons died out. This led to the Second era”

The Magicks were the highest of the three guilds. Although their numbers were less than that of Hominid, their power more than made up for it. Hunith had once dreamed of studying magic and becoming a healer, but only those born within the Guild or who had natural magicks could practice. The strict control on ‘relations’ meant that, no natural magicks had been born outside the Guild. Hunith had long since given up on her former dream.

“What about the dragon’s professor? Can’t they offer us some knowledge on the subject?"

The mention of dragons draws Hunith from her thoughts. Looking up she sees that it was Imogen who had spoken. Although she was not friendly towards Hunith   Imogen had not treated her unkindly either.  

“Ahh yes the dragons.” The professor muses. “Well the dragons themselves have a unique ability to re-live their ancestor’s memories inside their minds, and even transfer them to members of the Dragon Lords Guild.”

“How?” Imogen asks, clearly interested.

“Genetic memory. It lives in DNA and therefore in their blood. However you must take their accounts with a grain of salt my dear. Dragons as we know are not mankind’s best supporters. When they reawakened, they intended to scorch man from this world entirely. Had it not been for the Dragon Lords, we would not be here at all.”

The Dragon Lords, were equal to Magicks in power and statues however its members were far fewer in numbers, their abilities much rarer than Magicks. They were many, Hunith among them, that believed it was this fact alone that kept them a step behind Magicks. Dragon Lords had the unique ability to communicate and control the dragons and it was this that earned its members the adoration of every woman and man. You either wanted to be one or sleep with one, or at least that was the general consensus from what Hunith could gather. Unfortunately for its members the relation rule for the Dragon Guild was the strictest; allowing only for relations within the Guild itself or between natural magicks.

“Anyway,” the professor says, steering the conversation back to the current topic, “can anyone recall what the second era was called?”

Once more Huntih stays her hand and waits instead for a fellow classmate to answer. The professor catches her eyes as he scans the room. He must have noticed her clenching hands because his lips curl upwards, a cruel sneer of a smile appearing that leaves Hunith wanting to punch him in the face repeatedly.

“The Lost era sir.” Sam answers; taking the professor attention off of Hunith.

“Indeed. Now although this time period brought some great and inspired developments it is important to remember that it was this era that almost led to our complete demise as a species. On the one hand they achieved many great and miraculous things but they also became reckless and greedy, fighting over wealth and power. They forgot the importance of this Earth, seeing it as a means to their own fruitless desires. They began to destroy it, cutting down the forests, releasing poisons gasses into our atmosphere and oceans. Fighting, wars and general discontentment were consent. Eventually they destroyed each other with the weapons of destruction they’d made. The earth was all but demolished and man along with it.”

The professor pauses again, for dramatic effect. It takes everything inside her, for Hunith not to roll her eyes. She has made that mistake before.

“Can anyone tell me what happen next?” The professor resumes.

“The Interlude sir.” Imogen says.

“And what is that?” he asks.

“Well, what the lost era hadn’t realised was that those things, the things they called fantasy, were in fact still as real as me and you. Expect they had become dormant or were hidden deep in mountains or within in the centre of this earth. After the dust had settled, they claimed the world back. The dragon eggs that were previously hidden awakened. No one is really sure why or how, there’s speculation that it has something to do with the amount of explosions and chemicals released.”

“And…” the professor prompts.

“It’s like you said earlier sir, the dragons were angry at mankind for what they had done and they went on rampage. It was then that the first Dragon Lord was discovered. He knew how to communicate with the dragons and control them. He stopped them. That’s when the third era, the era of The Found, started.”

“Very good. Yes the era we live in now, The Found era, started to come into being and the Guilds formed. Magic blossomed and with the help of Magicks the earth was renewed. The Dragon Lords kept the dragons under control and us safe from any threats. Life began once more. Expect this time no one tried to stray from their rightful path.”

The professor choses this moment to once more make eye contact with Hunith, looking directly in her eyes, he continues his words pointedly sharp.

“This time each of us knows our place.”

\---

Hunith leaves the lecture hall with teeth clenched and a pool of anger bubbling inside her. She hates the professor, hates him and his slimy, high and mighty, delusion of grandeur ass. She wouldn’t care he if dropped dead. Expect that wasn’t true, despite his behaviour, Hunith didn’t wish any real harm upon him. _You’re too kind girl, too forgiving._ That’s what her father had always said, maybe he was right.

Keeping her head low and her eyes cast downwards; Hunith manoeuvres herself through the bodies of her fellow classmates, all of whom are engaged in friendly conversations. Hunith who had no friends to speak of, kept her mouth tightly closed, arms clutching at the papers containing her notes. She got twenty paces before the commotion began. The voices around her began to change; excitement punctuating every sentence and sudden electricity sparked through the crowd. She glances up and notices a group of girls, giggling into their hands, with wide eyed smiles that show perfectly white teeth, even a few boys were smoothing down their hair and straightening up their ruffled shirts.

The growing sound of beating wings indicates what the fuss is about and despite herself Hunith finds herself stopping, her gaze following that of everyone else. Several dragons where flying directly above, their mighty wings beating steadily in unison causing a gust of air which made Huinth clutch the papers in her arms tighter to her chest. Although each dragon was different, whether in size or colour they all held the same captivating beauty, a mixture of elegance and power. From where she was, it was hard to make out the faces of the Dragon Lords riding them. Their bodies were a mere blur of colour and movement, it would be easy to confuse them for part of the dragon themselves, their movements matched each other perfectly, as if they were an extension of the other.

Rooted to the spot Hunith watches in awe for several moments; right up until the ropes are thrown over the side of the dragons and their riders begin abseiling down, much to the delight of the captivated audience. For Hunith, however, it is too much, just another flashy egotistical display. She would much rather be in a secluded room than stay for the ego rubbing that would surely follow. Turning swiftly she starts her march back home, only to find herself colliding with the solid form of a body. Stumbling back from the impact Hunith lets out a startled yelp as she falls, her papers flying as she reaches out her hands to brace her fall.

“Well this is just great.” she remarks to herself, looking at the scattered papers, she hadn’t numbered them so getting them all back in order was going to take a while. She has half a mind to lecture mister hot shot on the importance of looking where he’s going, her mouth is already open in anticipation of words, before sense kicks in and she closes it back up again.

“Damn it. I’m really sorry.” A male voice says, his hand coming down and grasping at her wrist before she has a chance to protest it. “I didn’t see you there.” He explains apologetically as he pulls her back onto her feet.

“Obviously.” Hunith remarks bitterly as she brushes herself down. She was misses inviable, after all.

“You’re not hurt are you?” There’s genuine concern in his voice that Hunith was not expecting and it makes her pause. Turning her face up, she looks at him for the first time, a mistake in hindsight. Mister hot shot was in fact Balinor, the prodigy son of the Dragon Lord Guild. He held more medals and recognition of honour than any Dragon Lord that came before or after him. She recognises him immediately, she would have had to been living under a rock not to. His face is plastered on posters around the city.

“Umm.” She mumbles, suddenly unable to form words, not sure what the right ones would be if she could. By all rights she shouldn’t even be this close. She automatically takes a step backwards, as the thought crosses her mind. In her desperation, she trips on a loose rock and staggers backwards. Balinor is lighting quick in his reaction.

“Woah.” he says, hand grasping around her wrist once more as he steadies her. “Careful there.”

His fingers are warm against her skin, his grip strong, like he’s anchoring her down. She can feel the callouses on his palm, indicating a lifetime of hard labour. That too is a surprise; she’d always thought because of their status that Dragon Lords must lead a cushion existence, like the other lords and ladies of the Guilds. The feel of his hand and the dirt under his fingernails speak to a different tale. There’s something different about him too, in his manner and the way he holds himself.

“I….” Hunith says stumbling over her words as she looks down at the arm connecting them. A shimmer of light on his forearm catches her attention. It was a tattoo of a dragon’s paw print, with a human hand inside it. She’s seen tattoos before, it wasn’t uncommon within the Dragon Lord or Magicks Guild, even some of the Hominid Guild bore them, but she’s never seen one quite like this. The ink was different somehow; it changed in the light, shimmering like, well almost like scales. Hunith would have liked to study it further but she is suddenly all too aware of the hushed whispers around her, the multiple pairs of eyes all fixated onto them.

“Thank you” she says quietly, just loud enough that he can hear and pulls her hand away. She feels a sense of regret at the loss of contact.

“You’re welcome.” He’s smiling at her now, soft and open and it does something strange to her heart. “Sorry about earlier.” He gestures to the floor and the papers still scattered.

“No it was my fault I shouldn’t’ have been in the way.” Hunith says hurriedly, crouching to gather up the documents as quickly as she can. She needs to get away from here before she causes more of a scene.

“Hardly.” Balinor replies, bending to help her “I knew we should have waited till the path was clear, expect it was supposed to be a training exercise and well in battle people aren’t just going to make way for you.”

“Battle? I didn’t think we had those anymore?” Hunith quips before she can think better of it.

“Well not really, not a full scale war at least, but the Guild likes us to remain sharp just in case.” Balinor explains standing and handing her the rest of her notes.

“Oh.” Is all Huntih can think to say as she takes back the offered papers. Balinor pauses studying her face with such a concentration that Hunith wants to ask if she has something there.

“Would you like...”

“I should be going.” She interrupts completely on instinct. She has no idea what the end of his sentence was going to be and although apart of her really wants to find out, she can tell by the whispers that were growing louder, and the eyebrows that were starting to rise that whatever it was, was definitely not a good idea. She had spent too long in conversation with him as it was.

“Thanks again for you know.” she gestures at the papers in her arms, offering a half smile and with that she turns and quickly makes her exit, telling herself that it’s not his gaze she feels on her back.  

\----

“So despite what this looks like, I’m not stalking you.” Balinor says appearing in front of Hunith from behind an old oak tree. Hunith, who had decided to take the route home leading her through the secluded forest after yesterday’s incident, nearly jumps out of her skin.

“Oh my Guild!” she exclaims, clutching at her chest. She can feel her heart pounding against her ribcage, hard and fast.

“Damn sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.” he says apologetically, hands running through his hair. The act is filled with a nervousness Hunith is sure she’s imagining. What does he have to be nervous about; he’s a Dragon Lord after all.

“What are you doing here?” Hunith finally asks when she regains enough composure to speak.

“I was…” Balinor pauses, jaw twitching as he swallows. Hunith is struck by how hesitant he seems, as if he were internally debating with himself. It’s the complete opposite of their last meeting. Hunith watches uncertain but intrigued by the surrealism of the moment.

“I was…” Balinor begins again, shifting his position as his eyes wander to look at the fallen leaves beneath his feet. He kicks a few sending them up into the air. He _is_ nervous Hunith decides. The realisation makes something unexpected bloom in her chest and a sudden confidence comes over her. Without really meaning too her lips stretch wide in a beaming smile.

“Stalking me?” she supplies, teasingly, her eyes shining with the laughter she hasn’t let escape. Balinor’s face jerks upwards. He studies her as if looking for something, the intensity of it makes Hunith’s skin itch and the confidence that has been growing within her wavers slightly. Then as if carried away with the breeze Balinor’s expression changes; his eyes light up and he chuckles, soft and embarrassed.

“Well not exactly. I was flying with Killgaragh when I saw you and I figured I’d say hi.” He shrugs, as if that explains it all.

“Well Hi.” she says, after a brief pause, inwardly wincing at how clumsy that sounded. Balinor smiles back at her, eyes shining with the same unexplained warmth she’d seen yesterday.

“Hi.” He echoes closing the distance between them to an arm’s length. The more sensible half of Hunith’s brain urges her to move back but for a reason she can’t explain she stays rooted to the stop; watching him with a fascination that has her mind running around in circles.

“Would you like to come with me?” he asks abruptly and unexpectedly, pointing into the forest. Hunith is taken aback; her mouth opens and closes, mimicking that of a fish as she tries to make sense of the question.

“Ummm wh…huh?” she finally splutters out.

“There’s a waterfall; about ten minutes’ walk from here.” Balinor explains. Hunith who had spent many an hour hiking through the forest has never seen such a thing. Balinor must have either read her thoughts or her expression must have given her away because he begins talking again.

“It’s hidden by magic, magic from the first era. I don’t think anyone knows about it expect me and Killgaragh. If you didn’t know it was there, you’d think it was draping vines on the side of the cliff, but that’s just a mirage.”

“You want to take me to see a waterfall?” Hunith states incredulously. She thought saying it out loud might make it seem more plausible. It had the opposite effect. She is now almost certain that this is some sort of hallucination. Or more likely the university board is testing her, looking for grounds on which to expel her.

“I thought you might like it.” Balinor shrugs nonchalant, as if this was the sort of thing you do every day. Maybe he does Hunith thinks and that leaves a foul aftertaste. It’s only when he draws his bottom lip through his teeth indicating he’s not as sure of himself as he’d like her to believe, that Hunith negates the thought a moment later.

“Why?” she asks softly, perplexed both by his proposal and the strange feeling that something was changing. Like a sound in the back of her mind, she can’t explain.

“It’s pretty beautiful, especially around this time of year, with the leaves changing colour.” He supplies, skating around the true nature of her question. Balinor flashes her look, a silent plea perhaps to drop it and just come with him. Hunith wants to, she does. Expect she’s lived too many years under the weight of society and she’s all too aware of the punishment she’d receive if anyone saw them together. She opens her mouth to say no, planning on walking away but the word gets stuck in her throat.

“Why do you want to take me?” she says instead.

“Because I like you.” He says it like it is the simplest thing in the world.

“You don’t even know me.” Hunith reasons dropping her head and chewing the inside of her cheek. She can’t understand why that sounded like a lie.

“I’d like to.” Balinor says taking a step closer, bending his knees and tilting his head to bring himself level with her, drawing her back into eye contact. Hunith meets his gaze despite feeling completely exposed by it. No one has ever looked at her like this before, like they can actually see her.

“I’m not a natural magick.” She blurts out suddenly; shaking herself out from the haze she is dangerously falling under.

“I know.” He replies, something flickering across his eyes, determination, maybe.

“I’m Homind, the daughter of a farmer from the outlands.” Hunith tries hard not to sound ashamed by that and hates herself for only half managing it. Balinor is undeterred raising an eyebrow as if to say so what.

“And you’re a dragon lord.” Hunith adds slow and steady, punctuating every word, because that fact was very important and Balinor didn’t seemed to be getting it.

“That I am.” and there it was again, the look that says let it go. Hunith tries this time, really tries, purses her lip and furrows her eyebrows, searching for something anything that would allow for, well whatever this was going on between them.

“What about the relations law.” she asks solemnly. The mention of it makes Balinor’s eyes turn steely, his hands balling into half formed fists. He breathes deeply as if having some internal discussion with himself, finally when Hunith thinks she won’t be able to stand the silence any longer, Balinor exhales and nods to himself before answering her.

“That rule applies to marriage and other activities mostly associated but not restricted to, night time and a bed.” He says voice laced with charm and humour. Hunith feels her cheeks reddening, she adverts his gaze as she exhales, in mild embarrassment.

“I’m not asking for either of those things.” Balinor continues, the sentence hanging open as if not complete. He reaches out brushing the tips of his fingers over hers. “I just want to talk, maybe learn your name.”

Logic screams run. This is dangerous, this could get her killed. Yet Hunith finds herself trusting him. Reaching out ever so slightly, she just barely brushes her finger tips over his knuckles in a flicker of contact.

“My names Hunith.”

\---

“Go on ask me.” Balinor says, breaking the silence, all of a sudden. There’re sitting together on a blanket, next to the waterfall, he had shown her on their first sort of date.

What had started off as a few meetings here and then, slowly changed until it had become a daily occurrence, their lives entwining slow and gentle, like a passing breeze. Somewhere in those passing minutes they had stopped being strangers and become… _them_ ; an almost relationship, more than friends but not quite a couple either.

“Huh?” Hunith mutters, lifting her head from where it had been resting on his shoulder. Balinor nods towards his forearm where her fingers had been absentmindedly tracing the lines of his tattoo of a human hand print inside a dragons paw.

“You’ve wanted to ask for months.” He states, nodding towards it. “I think it’s time, so ask away.” There’s a cryptic message to those words that Hunith doesn’t quite understand, but she decides to take him up on the offer anyway.

“Why does it shimmer like that?” she inquires, gently tracing the curves of the dragon’s talon with the tip of her finger.

“It’s made from a dragon’s scale. Killgarah’s to be precise.” he explains glancing up into the sky, as if he expected to see Killgarah hovering above them.

Killgarah tended not to be presence during their meetings, where he went neither knew. At first Hunith had believed it was because he didn’t like her. When she’d voiced her concerns to Balinor, he had only laughed telling her that if Killgarah didn’t like her, he would have just scorched her and as it happened Killgarah liked her very much. There had been something in Balinor eyes when he’d told her that, a mixture of pride and justification.

"Wow that's amazing."  Hunith exclaims, watching as the sunlight catches the tattoo, making it shimmer.  A worrying thought crosses her mind unexpectedly, as she thinks of the scale being removed. 

Hunith had come to learn through her many discussions with Balinor that a Dragon Lord could force a dragon to bend to their will, although to do so seriously jeopardize the relationship between rider and dragon. Hunith had found the idea appalling, promptly going into a rant about free will and the abusive mentality of those who think their lives are more important. It troubled her now to think Balinor participated in such an act, though her heart told her not to be so stupid. 

"He did give it to you freely?" she hesitantly asks, a second later when she is still unable to shake the thought.  

"Yes Hunith, of course he did." Balinor soothes her worries, taking her hand and planting a kiss to the back of it.

“Does anyone else have one?” Although she has never seen anyone else with one, it’s not like she hangs out with enough Dragon Lords to gain a true perception.

“No, just me.” he says, confirming her belief.

“Why?” Hunith senses there is a lot more to this tattoo than she’d originally thought.

“Where do I start?” Balinor exhales, glancing down at the image permanently inked to his skin.

“The ink is made from the melted down scale, but it also contains dragon’s blood.” His eyes glaze over as he speaks, with what Hunith has come to know as his, ‘deep reflection’ look.

“Dragons blood?” Hunith repeats in astonishment. “Killgarahs?”

“Hmm” he hums, rubbing a thumb into the design.

“Why blood?” Hunith asks studying the tattoo with new found astonishment.

“Have you ever heard of the genetic memory?” Balinor reaches down and picks up a piece of nearby wood, studying it with a whittlers eye. Hunith knows from that simple act that this conversation is about to lead them down a path they can’t return from. She begins to understand Balinors early statement of _‘I think it’s time’_ , though she reflects it’s rather unfair. Balinor has obviously prepared himself for it, whereas she is walking blind.

“That’s where dragons pass on memories through their blood?” she answers thinking back to her lessons and the books she has read.

“Exactly. They can transfer them to us. It involves the dragon bringing the memory that they want to share into their mind, then using our connection to transfer it. It’s kind of like intense mediating.” Balinor pauses for a moment, checking to see if Hunith was still following him. She nods, prompting him to continue.

“However, if we were to share their blood, then the transference would be permeant and complete.” He finishes reaching into his jacket pocket to retrieve the pocket knife he always keeps on him.

“So why don’t you all have them?” Huntih questions leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees.

“Because it’s dangerous. The Dragon Lords that tried before me they, well it didn’t turn out so good.” Balinor explains, glancing into the horizon and holding the wood up into the sunlight.

“What animal shall I carve?” he asks, almost to himself.

“Umm a dolphin?” she offers, earning an approving nod.

“Dolphin, nice and easy.” He says, as he takes the knife and starts carving into it.

“Why is full transference dangerous?” Huinth says brining the conversation back on track.

“Imagine having memories that aren’t you’re own, thousands of them. It’s hard enough living one life, let alone multiple ones” Bailor begins, forehead creasing and Hunith notices just how deep the worry lines etch into his skin are.

“Those that have tried before have buckled under the weight. Their minds were unable to contain the knowledge and they burnt from the inside out.” Balinor scrapes the knife against the wood a little too hard, sending a large chunk flying, it lands with a plop into the stream. Hunith narrows her eyes as the information sinks in.

“Then why on earth did you do it?” she questions, furious that he had been so reckless with his life; a life that now means everything to her.

“Killgarah asked me to.” He says simply and Hunith does understand that. The bond the two had was, indescribable and went deeper than most could comprehend. Still she wonders why Killgarah had asked that of him, knowing the risk. She can’t help but be angry at both of them.

“He wanted me to be able to make my own decisions regarding everything.” Balinor says answering her unspoken question, his deep set blue eyes clouding over as he zones out, mind churning over with his own private thoughts.

“Decisions? What decisions?” Hunith queries, her own forehand scrunching up in confusion. Although she is trying to comprehend and put the pieces together, despite her best efforts she still feels like she’s drowning.  

“Not that question yet.” Balinor half whispers to himself, lips curling downwards. “Let me tell you about the past first.” He says, louder this time, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

“Ok.” She says tentatively, though her eyes tell him she will come back to that question later.

“I’m guessing they’ve taught you that Dragons went kill crazy, when they reawakened,” he begins, tilting his head towards her quizzically.

“Well yeah of course they did.” she shrugs, flashing him a wry smile

“Course they did.” Balinor snorts, mimicking her expression.

“Do you want this as a figure or shall I make it small for a necklace?” he asks nodding towards the wood in his hand.

“Figure please. So if that’s not the truth what is?” Hunith’s not surprised by the notion she’d been lied to, simply interested in learning the truth.

“Well it’s not exactly a lie, just a half the truth. The dragons did go on a rampage but only because they were being hunted by a group of,” he pauses, searching for the right word.

“Homionds?” Hunith supplies, going on instinct.

“For lack of a better word, yes.” Bailor confirms, albeit apologetically. “They weren’t just trying to kill the Dragons either. They wanted us,” he points to himself with the hand holding the knife, indicating he meant Dragon Lords, “and Magicks dead as well.”

“Why?” Huntih says baffled, unable to process the mind-set of her ancestors.

“Fear has a way of twisting you up; it can turn a kind man cruel.” Balinor’s voice is heavy with the weight of someone who has seen it, or at least has the memories.

“I don’t understand why Magicks and Dragon Lords wouldn’t want us to know that though? Wouldn’t it help keep us in place? Don’t trust a Hominoid, they might try and kill you.” Hunith deadpans, bitterly, watching as the wood shavings fall to the floor.

“Because, despite their many flaws, deep down the Guilds really do want a peaceful and unified life.” He says, defending the Guilds with the last remnants of the naive solider he’d once been long ago.

“They’ve got a funny way of showing it.” Hunith mumbles rolling her eyes. Balinor winks at her affectionately breaking the seriousness of the moment, albeit only for a second.

“You know we weren’t all innocent either.” He adds a moment later. “Those with magic committed their own acts of savagery. It still haunts us.” Balinor lifts the carving closer to his face, blowing gently to remove the dust watching as the specks dance in the sunlight.

“What do you mean?” Huntih inquires, expression expectant.

“Not all, but a lot of Dragons and their riders, as well as Magicks targeted Homionds, all of them. It was a blood bath, on both sides.” The head of the dolphin was already starting to take form, Balinors hands moving with experience and ease as he carved the gentle curves and edges.

“What happened to make it stop?” she asks.

“Well in part it was a Dragon Lord; the history books got that right, he convinced them that it was the wrong path. Him, and a high priestess prophecy.”

“Prophecy?” Hunith echoes. Although there were Magicks who offered their services in future sight for a small price, a real full prophecy was practically unheard of.

“Hmm” Balinor hums, closing one eye as he studies his carving turning it in the light as he considers his next move.

“It was said that two children would be born; two sides of the same coin. The first is the once and future king of the land of Albion. The second, Emrys, will be both a Dragon Lord and a Natural Magick; the most powerful soccer to have walked the earth. It is said that together they will unite the people and lands creating the world of Albion.”

Hunith doesn’t doubt the truth of his words. Perhaps if he had told her only the Guilds believed in it, she could have rolled her eyes and ignored it. Rebelling against them was a lot easier; after all she’d lived most of her life in the disapproving shadow of them, why should it bother her now.

“So that’s why the relation law is so strict for your Guild. They’re trying to ensure the birth of the child Emrys.” Hunith says, finally understanding, though it didn’t dull the sting.

“Yes. But it’s still stupid. There’s nothing to specifically prove Homiond’s can’t bear a child of magic.” Balinor says, voice growing irritated, hands tensing on the knife as he sweeps away unwanted wood.

Hunith doesn’t understand why that matters so much to him until she thinks back to his reluctances to answer her pervious questions about decisions and then something clicks heavily into place.

“The Guilds think it’s going to be your son, don’t they?” Hunith says quietly, certain she’s right. Blainor halts all movement, eyes fluttering shut for a second.

“And Killgarah, he believes it to. That’s why he asked you to do a full transference.” Hunith continues her heart growing heavier by the second.

“He was also testing me, seeing if I could handle it.” Balinor says, with a tone that indicates, that particular wound has not entirely healed.

“Because it confirms you are?” she says, her voice suddenly small. The weight and guilt she had previously been carrying over their almost relationship has suddenly doubled.

“Hunith just because I can handle the transference doesn’t mean that I am going to be...”

“Don’t” she says holding up a hand to silence him, “You don’t believe that and neither do I?”

Standing up she walks a few paces away from him, unable to stay still with the surge of emotions running through her. She comes to stand on the edge of the bank. Hunith looks down into the flowing water of the stream. Pebbles whisked about in the under wash like pieces of glitter. It’s babbling and burbling, the only sound breaking the silence that now hung between them.

“Don’t use this as an excuse?” Balinor pleads, placing the knife and half whittled wood down as he rises to stand beside her.

“Balinor your son is supposed to be the Emrys.” Hunith, who had already been concerned about that the implications of their relationship, especially if they were to take things further, is now even more conflicted.

“See this is why I didn’t want to tell you in the first place.” Balinor sighs exasperated, running a hand over his chin and the light brown close cut beard that covered it.

“Then why did you?” she counters, looking at him from the corner of her eye.

“Because you deserve to know. If we do this,” he motions between the two of them, “and you know I want that, then we are going to face more than a few objectors along the way and it’s not going to be an easy fight.”

“Also Killgarah threated to scorch me if I didn’t do it.” He adds with a laugh, trying to break the solemn mood hanging over them.

Hunith laughs back. Killgarah certainly was an enigma. She wonders why hadn’t he scorched her and just eliminated her from the picture. Then again if he had it would have damaged the relationship he shared with Balinor, and perhaps that would have sent him away from his supposed destiny. Was that why Killgarah had wanted Balinor to tell her, because he’d wanted her to be the one to walk away?

“What are you thinking?” Balinor asks softly, reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Hunith shrugs, her eyes stinging from all the conflicting emotion summersaulting within her.

“That maybe we should just be friends.” She mumbles, trying to convince herself she can’t feel her heart breaking.

“No.” Balinor says resolutely, shaking his head. “I’m not letting you go.”

“I’m not a natural magick.” She mumbles helplessly, but learns into his touch anyway when he winds his arms around her waist and pulls her close to him.

“Hunith.”

“Balinor.” Hunith pleads burying her face into his chest, in a futile attempt at hiding from the conversation.

“I can’t not be with you.” He says, in a tone she has never heard, like he’s broken and bleeding. It makes her lift her face to look at him.

“Do you know what you’re asking?” she says. “What you’re risking? Not just for us but for everyone?”

“Yes.” He says firmly and with such passion, that Hunith knows he has spent hours deliberating the matter with himself, maybe not just himself Hunith thinks as she remembers the Dragon he is bond to.

“What does Killgarah have to say about it?” she asks, wanting to take the focus off herself but also generally interested in understanding his part it in all. Balinor sighs and rubs his hands up and down her arms slowly but deliberately.

“Killgarah says that most of the time, destiny cannot be averted, but also knows it’s not impossible either. He gave me this,” he raises up his forearm making her eyes fall to the tattoo once more “partly to cement his belief in my destiny but also because the Guilds were trying to match me with a natural magick and I,” he pauses as if reliving the memory.

“I was going to do it out of some obligated sense of duty.” He scoffs at himself, as if that younger version of himself left a foul taste in his mouth.

“Why didn’t you?” her fingers lying flat against his chest, curl as she clutches at his shirt.

“Because I didn’t love her, and I’ve always believe that following my heart will lead me down the rightful path.” He says, cupping her face between his hands.

“And if it doesn’t?” she asks, eyes wide and lost.

“Then we’ll make Albion by ourselves.” He smiles, rubbing his thumb along her jawline lovingly.

“Balinor I…” Hunith begins, hands coming to rest over his as her eyes flutter shut. Slowly she leans in to press her forehead against his.

“I love you.” he whispers, lips brushing ever so slightly against hers in a ghost of a kiss. Her eyes snap open. It’s not something knew to her, she’s known how he feels for a long time now, but someone hearing the words out loud makes it _real_. Her body tingles from the elation it brings and she can do nothing to stop the way her face breaks out into a wide smile, stretching from ear to ear.

“I love you too.” She breathes, and is surprised by how steady her voice has become. How sure she is. Balinor lets out the breath; Hunith hadn’t noticed he’d been holding, as the words wash over him.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” He says, almost questioningly. Hunith takes a deep breath locking her gaze onto his. It’s now or never; she realises stopping him now would put an end to it. She could walk away, maybe she should.

“Ok.” Hunith whispers, placing her hands on his shoulders as they lean in towards each other, closing the distance between them forever.


End file.
